


Of Lambs and Lions

by LunarKitty



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-06-24 07:23:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15625671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarKitty/pseuds/LunarKitty
Summary: A bunch of one-shots of my characters of both factions and their views on the events of Battle For Azeroth





	1. Reflektor of the Nightfall (1)

**Author's Note:**

> https://gyazo.com/ac04021dd68923dcb125b9662e8b0032

The days had been long since she last laid eyes on the burning world tree. Since she attempted to evacuate Darnassus in vain. Since her composure was tested, and her power mocked. She stared down at the stein in her hand, watching the liquid swirl. She had become Archmage, she was finally recognized for all she has given for the Alliance, for Azeroth itself. Those who looked up to her before were mere mages, but now? Now the world looked on to see her next move, to see the true might of Argus’ downfall, the true strength behind a secretive woman now brought to the light. She was an enigma, an ever looming presence on the battlefield. You know of her, you knew she was there, but never who she was, or what she was. The eyes that witnessed her only did so through two colors; ally or enemy. She had been in the pocket of Varian for some time, but never before was she paraded around. That’s what mages like Jaina were for, show. But with her absence the mantle seemed to have skipped over Khadgar entirely and landed in her own lap. She had found herself in Dalaran once more in her Hall of the Guardian, trying to escape this inevitable war. An effort, like many lately, that was also in vein. 

“Archmage!” An adept came running through the door to her quarters, and for a moment, she ignored the beckon. Too caught up in her own thoughts as the drink in her hand froze over, then the mug itself before the window she stood in front of began to accumulate tiny ice crystals. 

“Archmage, urgent news from King Wrynn” The man stopped in his tracks when the realization of his abrupt entrance finally sunk in. He sheepishly held out a single sealed letter. She grabbed it, though there was hesitation in her eyes, there was none in her movement. Those stony eyes traced over the page, reading her summons to Stormwind and the news of the siege on Lordaeron that Anduin had requested her personally. 

Perhaps this was her chance to atone for her failure at Teldrassil, it was a letter not to be taken lightly. What she is being called to do was undoubtedly a heavy burden, but she was never one to reject a call to arms. The paper suddenly caught fire and burned out of her hands. As small bits of still flaming parchment hit the ground, she disappeared through a portal to Stormwind. 

The port had a familiar smell of iron and seawater as she drew nearer. There she spied the young King amidst the chaos of troops preparing to ship off. From up here he did seem quite small, despite the hulking armor he wore. Before landing, she thought a moment on his father, a lifelong friend that she swore her life to, a friend that was gone. And there stood what was left of that legacy, a boy who wore a helmet far too big for his own head, and a sword too heavy for him, all for his people. Trying to inspire them the way Varian did. Trying to show a semblance of that warrior spirit that capture the hearts and minds of his kingdom. She wouldn’t let harm fall to Anduin, she swore it. Had she been there that day at the Broken Shore, maybe Varian would still be here today. But now her King called her to war, and to war she will go. 

“Ah, there you are Reflektor, thank you for getting her so quickly. It’s time to strike at Lordaeron, and I’d like you by my side when we retake the keep.”

“My life, for house Wrynn” she doesn’t bow, but she does incline her head. Her voice was far softer than Anduin had anticipated. Before this point in time, he doesn’t recall even ever hearing her speak. He used to see his father and her exchange asides, but never more than a soft whisper. Her voice sounded like a light breeze through trees, light, airy and it sent shivers down his spine, and caused his hairs to stand on edge. He looks over to Mathias to see that even he too had gained goosebumps with her entry. The icy winds of Northrend follow her. It did not match the domineering presence she was known for, her voice.. The voice was ethereal, and perhaps his shock showed on his face. He gathered himself quickly,

“Your reputation precedes you, even my father spoke very highly of you.” 

“The Horde will pay for what they did to Teldrassil.” She looks out over the bay, to all of the ships ready to set sail. She wasn’t one for beating around the bush, perhaps that’s what kept her from the spotlight. She lacks the charisma, the charm. She simply does her job. Exceedingly well. 

“Yes, they will, I will see it done. Now come, the time has come” Anduin holds out a hand towards his flagship. She promptly boards and the ship sets out with the rest in toe.


	2. Netherlord Odile (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> https://gyazo.com/59f97fef6b50ab2d763ff1ba5530e60b

“When your… Arcanist informed me of how integral you were to their success, she failed to mention your….” 

“My what, darling? My panache? My aplomb?” She waved off her succubus as it attempted to feed her some berries. 

There she laid, draped over the warchief’s throne of furs. Netherlord Odile made herself truly at home in Orgrimmar, and Grommash Hold specifically, when she visited. Much to the displeasure of Sylvanas. Not even bothering to wear her armor when she came, instead she paraded around in her glorified negligee from Suramar. She never spent much time in Orgrimmar, the place was far too hot and dry for her. And even now she had not intended to stay long. She had one goal in mind after the burning of the kal’dorei’s silly tree. One goal after standing behind the horde’s warchief and watching desire and passion drive her to razing it. She saw the weakness in it, and where there was weakness, there was opportunity. The difference between Odile and the rest close to Sylvanas? Odile was not afraid of her. 

“Your… vanity.” Sylvanas finished with a wry, disgusted tone.

Odile swung both her legs to the ground, deciding instead to lean back against the throne. Her lithe fingers crawling up the arms. “Consider it an investment, darling.” she clasped the ends of the arms before jolting herself forward, off the throne and onto her feet. “You’re a very smart woman, I’m a very smart woman. Neither of us are fooling anyone.” 

Her steps were light as she walked towards the warchief, almost catlike. 

“We’re both strong, in places of power, hungering, yearning for something just out of reach, are we not. But you seem to be clouded by something? Perhaps you think i’m here to step on your toes? Or steal something that, from what I understand, was just dropped into your lap.”

“Do not presume to know me, warlock. You are only in your position because your people we’re desperate, clawing on to whatever showed promise” She hissed, unwelcoming such equal advancement. But Odile persisted, poking a bear she had no business poking because, well, it was fun.

Odile’s mouth opened once more, but before she could speak, she closed it and smiled. “The irony is not lost on me” She gave a haughty look while she continued to circle the horde’s leader. “I have a proposition, Dark One” 

“Get out of my keep”

“Nuh uh uh” Odile reached out, lightly pinching Sylvanas’ chin. She turned her head to look her in the eyes. “You need allies, and not just ones you can piss away. Thralls will only get you so far, darling. Lemmings, the lot of them. No, you need allies with guile, the power to see your vision through. That aren’t afraid to get a little…..rough” The dead cold feeling of her chin almost shocked Odile, but she had the advantage now, she wasn’t going to let anything catch her off guard.

“Nathanos-”

“He is but a man, even if a dead one. Those will only get you so far as well, darling.”  
Odile’s face continued to close in on Windrunner’s. “You need me” Her lips drew closer, so close she could feel her ice cold breath against her own lips, and she was sure the Dark Lady could feel her warm breath on her own. So close, Sylvanas could’ve sworn they brushed at all.

“Think on it” Odile pulled away hastily with a sultry hazy look in her own eyes as a netherportal appeared before her.

“You know where to find me” Odile stepped through it while motioning for her succubus to join her.

There, standing in a stunned silence, Sylvanas Windrunner clenched her fist with one hand, but with the other felt the lingering warm touch that was left on her face.


	3. Reflektor of the Nightfall (2)

The battle had been grueling, despite the Alliance’s best efforts. They were at a stalemate in the field in front of the gates to Lordaeron. Large, sharp icicle hail fell around the field, cutting off any advancement the Horde tried to make, and there stood Reflektor in the middle of it all, effortlessly commanding the storm. 

“Men! Advance!” Anduin called as his armored horse reared. “Archmage, keep up the storm around our advancement and come with me,” 

Anduin, seeing the size of the hailstorm spiral out even larger as her eyes froze over, emitting an icy haze. He expected an answer, but chilling silence met him, she had simply nodded wordlessly. She didn’t even try to run to keep up with his horse, as she walked forward the ice and hail circled her, radiating out from her form. As she drew closer to the gates, horde militants froze in their places instantly. Some mid combat, axes raised high, others mid cast, a frozen fireball midair falling to the ground with a sharp shatter. 

Anduin himself seemed to freeze, not literally, but stunned amongst the crowd. The sound of screams chilling his spine as they were silenced just as quickly as they had begun.   
A giant shard began manifesting in her hands. Bigger than a normal icicle, a summoned stalagmite if anything. Like a javelin, she speared it through the air and it impacted on the War Machine before them, shattering it into pieces and sending nearby horde flying. 

“Alliance! Advance!” Anduin cried, seizing the opportunity she had made, he would not let it slip. Reflektor put her hand out behind her, as if calling something. Zipping through the air, knocking over alliance troops in it’s way, a frozen discus come barreling towards her. As she began to run foward, she jumped onto it before it wizzed by her. Ice crawling up her shoes and her ankles to secure her in place. She caught up to her King quickly, intending to fully build a ramp to scale the wall completely.

Just as the alliance vanguard had pushed up further, and the cannons began taking down the wall, the gates to the keep swung open furiously. Dozens of undead clad in gas masks spewed from the entrance and down the steps. That is when she saw it, they were equipped with guns that shot the same familiar green liquid she had forsaken so long ago. The same green ichor that changed her life, nearly taking it completely. She looked up and there flew casks that exploded on impact around her. Sylvanas had released the Blight.

Her concentration thrown for a loop, the ice around her feet melted away, and she was thrown from her disc. She heard it sputter and smack against the ground, rolling to a halt as her eyes darted around at the screams of her allies, her eyes reverting to normal, her glacial storm dissipating as she dropped to her knees. She looked confused, terrified, as if this had reopened an old, deep wound.

No, not again, this can’t happen again. The horror I saw, and faught to never see again. There it is, oh Light, there it is again and I,,,, I

The sound around her drowned out by her own thoughts as she grabbed her head, almost folding in on herself all together. In that moment all the faces of the friends she lost in Northrend flashed in her mind, their screams, the smell of burnt hair and flesh. Their-

“Archmage, we have to go get up!” As she looked up, she saw the hand of her King atop his steed reaching down to her. He was basked in a holy yellow glow as she quickly noticed that the blight had not touched her, nor penetrated the barrier he had created. 

The sheer fear in her own eyes must’ve struck something in him, but his steadfast presence did not falter. 

As she grabbed his hand, a small pillar of ice from the ground underneath her shot up, propelling her forward and up behind him onto his horse.

“Can you do anything to cut through that haze, Archmage?” He called back to her as the steed stormed back, retreating from the field. 

“I,,,” She was still at a loss, the fear still tugging at her, refusing to let her mind ease.

“This is not the time to lose yourself, your people need you-” 

“Yes you…. You are quite right” almost as if another, colder, more rational entity took over her body, wiping away her fear completely. The chill to her voice was offputting, to say the least.

She let go of his torso and jumped off the horse, three point landing on the trail behind him. The sudden shock of her action caused a confused King to stop his horse as he turned to look at her. Almost ready to yell at her, he watched as with one pinch, she lowered the black material that covered the lower half of her face. The horse hoofed at the ground, waiting orders anxiously but Anduin stayed. 

With the familiar haze washing over her icy eyes, a thin stream of bone chilling air came between her pursed lips. As it ejected and met the air, it immediately erupted. A wave of complete sub-zero ice completely decimated the battlefield. Turning the ground to ice, enemies to ice, and most shockingly, the blight’s temperature was brought so low, that it molecularly could not retain it’s makeup. It all shattering into crystaline dust that glowed in the afternoon light. The still battlefield, for a brief moment in time, seemed to remind Anduin of the night sky, and the twinkling stars. And in that moment, he had realized how she coined the moniker “Reflector of the Nightfall”

That’s when he finally saw it, the reason how in all his years, she was never seen without her signature mask, regardless of the company. Her jawbone exposed in multiple places, tendons visible straining against what meat was still there. Her mouth, extended in length by the exposed teeth that had once been sheltered. A survivor of the Wrathgate, where the icy chill of Northrend never left her.


	4. Reflektor of the Nightfall (3)

The air in the throne room was tense between the magi. They had both been summoned by King Wrynn in regards to some “secret” or another. SI:7 was never too informative when a summons was required. Jaina stood solemnly a good distance away from Reflektor, who hadn’t looked at her since she walked in. Having them both in the same room caused the air to drop to a below freezing point. Each trying to exert some presence upon the other, though the nearby throne guards could see their breath and were less than happy about it.

“Must you do this every time?” Jaina finally spoke in a distinct voice, tinged with annoyance. 

“What ever are you referring to?” Reflektor answered still without looking towards her, ebonchill spinning near her head.

“This,” Jaina gestured vaguely. 

“Oh, is it bothering you?” 

“You know what actually, yes it is.”  
“You want to know what bothers me? Magi who cannot complete a task given to them, magi who cannot keep a level head and stick to the mission. It’s a wonder you aren’t a master of fire.”

“Is this about the prisoners escaping?” 

“No it’s about that one time in hyjal- of course it’s about the prisoners escaping. We both know had you stayed behind to guard Anduin, and I was out there, they would not have escaped. But no, I take guard duty and you fuck up.” Reflektor stands with her fist under her chin, or whats left of it, as if contemplating, thinking aloud as the words come to her. 

“Oh, could you have done a better job? Continue to chase them down as Stormwind burned? Hah” Jaina was curt, blowing Reflektor off as if she was a gnat that had gotten too close to her ear.

“They never would have gotten that far. They would never have made it out of the stockades let alone the docks. You’re a spoiled child Jaina, you know that? Every chance you get you manage to fuck up somehow because of your overinflated ego.”

“MY overinflated ego? Look at yourself! You meander around silently, with this facade and ‘icy presence’, when in reality you are stuck in the past-”

“Do not talk of the Wrathgate as if you knew what those frontlines were like!” Reflektor’s eyes glow with an icy mist as she speaks the words, but it quickly subsides, and she reverts to her calm composure rather instantly. “When things need to be done, they send me. When there was a parade to be had, they send you. Don’t forget that.”

“Are you insinuating I am for show? That what has happened was somehow in my control?”   
Jaina’s voice cracked, giving way to her emotion. A very different one from Reflektor’s outburst a moment ago. 

“Theramore was a tragedy. No one is taking that away from you. But you have done more harm than good to the Alliance that I have given my blood, sweat and tears to protect.” She turns to Jaina, “and if you slip up again. I will not hesitate to cut you down.” 

“Cut ME down? Do you think you honestly can?” 

“There is a reason I am who wields Ebonchill. There is a reason I was told not to give it up to the corruption of Sargeras. Oh, wait, I forgot, you weren’t there. I was on the frontlines of the final Legion invasion, I was there when Xavius fell, when Gul’dan, Kil’jaeden, and Argus itself fell. And where were you? Somewhere crying to yourself i’m sure. Do not speak to me of duty, or of power. You know of neither. You were nothing before Arthas, and only a pretender after.” 

 

“You were also there when Varian fell. Or did you forget? You preach of duty and of loyalty, and yet, you let our King die! Your oldest friend, huh? Some friend you are, perhaps it’s the reason you don’t have any.” 

Just as Reflektor was about to respond, the heavy clanking of plate against the marble floor was heard, and in stepped Kingsguard, followed by Anduin, and Genn in toe. 

She straightened, offering a bow. “My King” 

“It is good to see you both here on such short notice. Thank you,” King Wrynn began, “it has come to my attention that the Horde have found new allies in the Zandalari Trolls. It is troubling news, considering their sizeable army, and the strength of their navy. But, we will not let them gain the upper hand so easily. And so, Jaina, I trust that you know what I am to ask you.” He looks toward her, who looks puzzled. 

“I can’t say I do, what do you need, Anduin?” 

“The Alliance needs the might of Kul’tiras to join our fold once more. And so, you will go with The Archmage to secure our alliance with your home.” 

Jaina’s eyes shifted with concern as if not sure what to say in response to such a request. Luckily, Reflektor was able to fill in the silence.

“You are going to send her to recruit the Kul’tirans? My King they hate her?” She was honestly dumbfounded. “Just send me” 

“Jaina isn’t hated, just, it is her home, if anyone can convince them, it would be her.” Anduin could already feel the tension without her even having to mention it. He felt bad for sending the two of them on a boat together for weeks, but, if anyone was capable, it was them.

Reflektor bit her tongue as she bowed once more, heading towards the door. As she passed Genn, his arm brushed her own, as if he had put it out further to purposefully get her attention. She looked up to look him in the eye. He motioned with his head for her to meet him out the door. 

“It would be my honor to return home once more” Jaina said reluctantly. 

“When did it become your home? Was that before or after your father’s murder?” Reflektor said as she stopped in the doorway. 

Jaina’s hands slammed against the map in front of her in anger as Genn ushered Reflektor out of the door.


	5. Reflektor of the Nightfall (4)

The sun was setting upon Stormwind Harbor. Reflektor waited by the Proudmoore flagship for Jaina since her outburst in the throne room. As she waited, leaning against some boxes, she watched as more and more of the deceased were identified. Men followed around commanders, writing furiously to make sure they got every name down. Each coffin was lined perfectly, and nurses began draped the finished ones with the immaculate blue that had become synonymous with the Alliance. The sight before her didn’t make her sad, she had seen it countless times. From the time she was apart of it, laid out over a makeshift stretcher, looking around frantically to see all the diseased around her, most already dead. She remembered the pain she felt, as she rolled out of bed, cold and bandaged, looking for her family that had been on the battlefield with her. Her wife, her brother, the friends she had made in her envoy. Each one, one after another, found and pronounced dead. 

Then she remembered each time after that, where she was surrounded by death. After deathwing rose, after Garrosh’s war, after the whole back-in-time-bit that still confused her, and after the Legion’s assault. She could never escape it. Everywhere she went, death followed. 

She never considered that wherever there was death, was where she was needed most. 

Just as she lost herself in her thoughts, Jaina approached. She passed her with a sneer and climbed aboard her ship. 

“Are you coming?” she called down. Reflektor pushed free of the stacked crated and hopped aboard silently. 

Days passed as the ship met relatively calm seas, to which Reflektor spent most of her time standing on deck, gazing out into the unforgiving sea that seemed to stretch on for miles. 

The next time she saw Jaina, they had already arrived.

“Home again,,, after all this time” Jaina muttered, but Reflektor made no motion to comment. Though it did not stop Jaina from continuing.

“They won’t let us any closer to the keep, we’ll have to walk from here. Returning to Boralus has stirred feelings I thought i’d left behind - memories smoothed away by the years like stones against the tide. It all feels raw again. I don’t know how this will end. But we have to try.” Jaina seemed to gaze off toward the city aloofly as she spoke. It was the first time Reflektor found herself feeling a little empathetic. If only a little. 

As they took their leave of the boat, they were immediately confronted by cavaliers. Mounted Kul’Tiran soldiers.

“HALT! State your intentions” one barked as two others closed behind the magi. 

It made Reflektor uneasy to be circled like this, and she assumed a stance ready for a fight. Jaina put a reassuring hand back towards her, signally to calm down.

“I am Jaina Proudmoore, I come seeking an audience with Lady Katherine Proudmoore, my mother.” she proclaimed, loud and proud. More loud and proud Reflektor thought she would’ve. She looked towards Jaina with furrowed, confused brows. ‘They hate you? Why would you-’ she began thinking to herself as the soldier barked once more.

“Oh, we’re taking you to Katherine alright.”

One of the soldiers behind Reflektor hit her back with his bayonet to get her to walk forward.

“You will answer for your crimes against Kul’tiras.” and he began walking away, back through the gates.

They followed willingly, but they really left them no choice.

As they walked through the streets, citizens stood in shock, in horror of seeing her again. They spat, hurled insults, they showed them both just how unwelcome they were. Or at least, how unwelcome Jaina was. It was at this time that she began to genuinely wonder why Anduin thought this was a good idea. She should have come alone. 

They were brought to a court, citizens lined the whole perimeter, as well as guards. 

“Do you still think this is a good idea, Proudmoore?” She asked genuinely, as they waited, standing before a grand wooden door, awaiting their fate.

“I…. There is no other way.” Jaina didn’t even bother to turn to look at her.

“Are your ideas really so limited?” Reflektor hushed as the doors flew open.

A stout, black haired woman stepped out with a lithe grey haired one. Judging by the outfits, it was easy to assume the grey haired one was Lord Admiral Proudmoore. 

“So.. my wayward daughter has returns to the kingdom she betrayed.” Katherine began, “why?” the words dripped venom. Reflektor knew they were not welcome, but the Kul’tirans were unreadable. 

“I have come to ask Kul’tiras for aid, on behalf of the alliance.” 

“The Alliance? HAH. Where were they when we begged for their help. When our husbands, and sons, and brothers, were slaughtered at Theramore?” The raven haired woman interjected. 

“And where was Kul’tiras when the Burning Legion invaded our world?” Reflektor spoke up, staunch and unshaken.

“And who is this?” The woman’s eyes pinned her down, assessing her. 

“This is-” Jaina began before she was cut off.

“I am known as the Reflector of the Nightfall. Or Archmage” she stated. 

“My royal escort.” Jaina finished through gritted teeth. “Do not blame the Alliance for my mistake.”

“So you admit to your crimes!?” the stout woman continued, and Reflektor was not impressed. She was posturing, but why? Who was she? And why did her opinion matter? “You admit you were responsible for the deaths of our men?!”

“I….. yes” Jaina was resigned, and Reflektor looked at her wide eyed. “But I will do anything in my power to ease the suffering of Kul’tiras.”

“Katherine… enforce our laws. The punishment for treason is death.” 

Reflektor drew Ebonchill from her back. It’s immaculate swirling crystals twinkling in the evening light. 

Katherine walked up to Jaina, “do you accept the judgement of your homeland?” 

“I accept your judgement, Mother” Jaina replied simply. As she bowed her head before her mother, she reached out and ripped the Kul’tiran anchor pendant from Jaina’s neck.

“You are no daughter of mine.” Katherine said as she turned and left them all standing there in shock, guards began unsheathing their own weapons, pivoting towards the armed Reflektor.

“Jaina what’s the plan” she asked desperately as six guard circled Reflektor.

“Do what you will, she is nothing to me.” Katherine said finally as she disappeared back into the keep she had emerged from.

Just then, two of the guards jumped her, putting her into a headlock at the same time a pair of magically atunned handcuffs were clamped around her wrists, ankles, and mouth. She was knocked unconscious. Her memory fragments here and there, she remembers being stripped of her armor and inventory, and being tossed around. 

She wakes up on a cold, wet, stone ground. Her hair loosened from her ponytail, and her iconic armor set replaced by a pauper's rags. She shakes her head, trying to rid it of it’s dizziness. As she looks up from the ground, sitting upon a bench is an overcoat wearing moustached ginger, gazing down on her with amusement.


End file.
